


Gone With The Wind

by Titania13



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Infected Characters, M/M, also really LOTS of angst, also they're pining idiots you know the deal, also this is heavily based on the The Death Cure movie, and maybe not in the way you might think?, but also nothing too graphic, but also nothing too graphic i guess, but it's not necessary if ya just looking for some angst, i mean if you're interested in all the references it'd be nice to know the plot and shit, i say i guess a lot huh, idk i haven't decided yet lol, it's like mentioned for a short moment but nothing too graphic i think?, it's mostly about Klance the others are just kinda there i guess, possible major character death, the Galra are human but still horrible, there's also guns and blood and some other gross stuff i guess, there's also mentions of anxiety and a panic attack i guess, what even is fluff i don't know her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 18:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14550306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titania13/pseuds/Titania13
Summary: Keith knew something wasn’t right.He didn’t feel right.He wasn’t right.It started with little dizzy spells, but, hey, they were at war. He was no expert, but his friends didn’t look their freshest either.So he brushed it off. Endured it, let it wash over him, close his eyes, proceed with the mission after a few seconds passed.It continued with flares of anger, irritation igniting a spark within his aching chest that rapidly spread throughout his blood. Like a wildfire. He snapped more often, but he wasn’t the only one, so he was fine, right? They were all on edge. All day every day.Just overreacting. Nobody else made a big deal out of it.It really started with the black bruise covering part of his pale skin, right below the crook of his elbow.Veins turning a dark purple and bulging against his battered skin.That was the beginning of the end, and that was when he truly knew.Something was off.Telling the others and getting help would be the best course of action, but…Just too bad Keith preferred to run from his problems and ignore them until they caught up to him, and he’d collapse beneath their weight.Unable to run any further.





	Gone With The Wind

**Author's Note:**

> LOOK AT THE TAGS FIRST PLEASE
> 
> ayyyee so this is kinda rushed and kinda shitty but i can't look at this any longer and need to get it out here somewhere i guess
> 
> i haven't completely finished this yet (idek which direction i'd like to take with it) so i guess we'll see if i ever get to it
> 
> the title is from the same named song by Architects (really recommend the song and band, just saying)
> 
> also english isn't my first language and i'm trying my best here, so please bear with me and just kindly correct me if i made some really horrible mistakes lol thanks  
> i have no beta and am working all on my own, so that's the tea
> 
>  
> 
> enjoy the suffering

Keith knew something wasn’t right.

He didn’t feel right.  
_He_ wasn’t right.

It started with little dizzy spells, but, hey, they were at war. He was no expert, but his friends didn’t look their freshest either.  
So he brushed it off. Endured it, let it wash over him, close his eyes, proceed with the mission after a few seconds passed.

It continued with flares of anger, irritation igniting a spark within his aching chest that rapidly spread throughout his blood. Like a wildfire. He snapped more often, but he wasn’t the only one, so he was fine, right? They were all on edge. All day every day.  
Just overreacting. Nobody else made a big deal out of it.

It _really_ started with the black bruise covering part of his pale skin, right below the crook of his elbow.  
Veins turning a dark purple and bulging against his battered skin.

That was the beginning of the end, and that was when he truly _knew_.

Something was off.  
Telling the others and getting help would be the best course of action, but…

Just too bad Keith preferred to run from his problems and ignore them until they caught up to him, and he’d collapse beneath their weight.

Unable to run any further.

 

*

 

“We need to get through the walls somehow. I _know_ the Galra are hiding Shiro within their HQ—“

“This is insane. Absolutely nuts. We might have made it past the final wave of the infected, Lance, but we can’t just barge right into the lion’s den! The Last City itself is guarded bad enough as it is, you probably can’t even _imagine_ — _ugh_. Point is, we won’t even be able to take a _step_ past those gates before taking a bullet through our skulls!”

“Matty, please, c’mon—“

“… but Lotor is there, too. Maybe if we get to him first, he could take us to Shiro—“

Keith was tired.  
So, so very tired.

Something was splitting his head apart from the inside, melting his brain, leaving his ears ringing painfully. _God_ , he could barely think straight lately. Not anymore.

It was getting harder and harder to keep a clear mind.  
Steadily slipping in and out and back in again and then it was gone once more. Back and forth, back and forth, like the stormy seas sloshing against the coast and back out into chaos again.

His bad leg was having an even worse day, always threatening to just give in beneath his weight. With his just as bad hand to match, he was clinging to the edge of the makeshift table between them; clinging to the sharp, splintering wood of some random boxes they found. Every touch felt like tips of sharp knives digging into his meanwhile fragile skin.

There was that all too sudden and too familiar sensation of nagging irritation, tempting and poking his insides with acid whispers.

Before he could stop himself, his less aching hand slammed down on the box.  
The sound of wood rattling against the earth echoed off the moist walls, reverberating through their little cave.  
Pebbles crunched beneath his heavy boots as he steadied his footing, took a deep, shuddering breath and finally raised his head.

Keith opened his eyes.

He blinked against the dimly lit lanterns flickering back at him, trying to capture Lance’s wide eyes opposite of him with his own.  
Something else flickered at the corners of his vision, small yet intimidating all the same, but he couldn’t let it sway him.  
Not in front of everyone else.

So he grit his teeth, lips curling into what must have been an ugly snarl.

“Oh, shut it,” he hissed and, no, wait, that wasn’t what he wanted to say—  
“So, that’s it? That’s actually it?”

Both of his hands smacked down on the boxes once more. The lanterns on it rattled loudly, his whole body shivering from the impact. Echoes bouncing off the muddy walls.  
Lance actually flinched, a small frown pulling at his grimy features.

“What—“

“It’s Lotor now, huh? The one that matters now. You don’t even care about Shiro, for fuck’s sake!”

Despite his body’s screaming protests, he pushed himself off his only remaining support and stalked towards Lance.

Everything felt like it was on fire. Devoured by the all-consuming flames of hell.  
Keith blinked, and suddenly he was gripping Lance’s collar in a death-grip, brutally shoving the other boy into the cave wall behind him.

Allura was calling his name, Matt’s and Hunk’s strong hands dug into his shoulders and spine, trying to drag him backwards, and Pidge was trying to slip into the small space between the two of them—

To no avail.

Just then he was strong, too strong for his own good.  
The anger within him didn’t settle, didn’t lessen; it was out for a fight, out for war, out for blood and ready to smash skin against skin—

His bad leg was trembling from the pain and effort it took just to stand upright, his jaw ached from trying to lock the sharp words in—

But he was weak, too.

In that moment, Keith was everything and nothing at all.

Most of all, he was scared.  
Scared of himself.

Scared of the poison literally spreading through his veins.  
Tainting his actions, the words falling from his chapped lips, his drifting mind.

Himself.

“Lotor left us there to rot and _die_ , left us for the Galra to feed upon! All for his own. Fucking. Interests.” Every word was spat right into Lance’s face and he felt so, so _bad_.  
“And you _still_ want to fucking run right back to him?! You seriously think he’ll help us, after everything he’s done? After capturing Shiro? He’s probably torturing him together with the rest of his… his traitors, just as we speak! I— I can’t _believe_ you!”

“I-It’s not about Lotor, I swear! Keith, no, you’re wrong. I promise, I want to get Shiro back just as much as—“

“Don’t. Fucking. Lie to me!” He hissed angrily.

Lance gasped as Keith gave his collar one last harsh shove.  
Finally, finally he forced his feet to step back.  
Everyone else was hovering close by uncertainly, the silence looming over their heads like a heavy blanket. Threatening to wrap them up and smother them.  
Only Hunk’s hands were still on his shoulder and chest, quivering where they clung to his jacket.

“I—“

Lance flinched again, looking pale all of a sudden.  
Guiltily averting his eyes.

The sluggish fog in his mind began to clear, little by little.

“F-Fuck,” Keith whispered, running a shaky hand down his face.  
His legs were weak, ready to give out any second then.

He needed to get out, out, _out_.

“I-I’m sorry,” he breathed, blinking against the weird burning sensation filling his eyes. “I-I’m so, so sorry. Lance, I’m sorry.”  
_I didn’t mean to snap like this. Never like this. Not towards you._

Blue eyes widened and met his own. Everyone else’s eyes fell upon his face too and it was outright _suffocating_.

“I’m… really sorry.”

Keith did what he was best at.

He ran while he was still able to.

 

*

 

The sound of waves crashing against the shore and rushing back to sea was oddly calming. Oddly familiar; an image put to the words describing his current state of mind.  
A cool but gentle breeze caressed his face like a welcoming hug made out of hands of needles, smelling of _sea_ and _salt_ , kind yet painful – but most importantly, keeping him awake.  
Keeping him sane.

Keith sat there, his hurting leg limply dangling off the occasionally crumbling edge of the cliff he found not too far from their temporary base. The last rays of sunlight felt amazing against his freezing skin. He shuddered, a little too aware of the goosebumps all over his trembling arms, even with his limbs hidden in the sleeves of his jacket. As he hugged his other knee closer to his chest, he rested his chin on top of it, just letting the wind play with his greasy hair.  
Huh. Maybe he could take a swim after everything settled down a little.

If he made it that far, that was.

The crunching sound of hesitant footsteps neared, interrupting his circling thoughts.

He didn’t even have to turn around to see who it was; only one person would ever follow him like this.  
Fabric and grass rustled as the person sat down right next to him. Grunting, as they squeezed themselves into the small space next to him right at the edge of the cliff.

Keith didn’t react. Didn’t acknowledge their presence until he absolutely had to.  
Dragging the peaceful moment out for as long as he could.

For a moment, they sat there in a somewhat content silence.

Then, Lance spoke up.

“Feels nice, huh? The sun, I mean. To feel the real thing again, I guess. To not worry about a thing for a moment, just enjoy the outside world and take a breather. Almost kinda therapeutic, hah.”

Keith shrugged.

It was kind of true, but he didn’t want to give in to the poor attempt at small talk.

Not with Lance.

Lance seemed taken aback. Unsure of how to proceed further.  
“Keith…” He tried again hesitantly. “I’m… not mad. Honestly, I guess I… kind of deserved it. We’re cool, man. You hear me?”

This was it.  
Keith closed his eyes and hummed.  
A weak response, but a response nonetheless.  
Honestly, it was all he could muster up just then.

“I’m still sorry. I really am,” he whispered after another long stretched second.

“It’s okay, I believe you. For what it’s worth… I am, too,” Lance mumbled, and then there was a warm hand resting heavily on his shoulder.  
It felt like another burden was added onto his already straining shoulders.  
Keith squirmed beneath the gesture clearly intended to be comforting.  
All it did, though, was to spike his anxiety.

Lance either didn’t pick up on it or chose to ignore it.  
Probably the latter.

The mark on his arm burned like hell itself clinging to his bruised, paper thin skin.

Words formed on his tongue before his mind could mull them over or fully catch up.  
They were forced out into the open, into the already heavy air between them, and left there hanging by an unraveling thread.

“Lance. Do you know how I got my bad leg?” He whispered softly.  
His heart was hammering against his throat. Tentatively, he wiggled his right foot a little, let it bump into the cliff with a dull ‘thud’. His whole skin felt like it was crawling, pulsating.

Lance’s hand slowly slid from his shoulder. Down to his shoulder blades.  
It rested there reassuringly, sending his skin crawling beneath the tender touch.

“I mean… I noticed your limp from the moment we met, but I… never really thought to question it. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Another shoulder, leaning against his own.  
A warm and gentle hand, rubbing comforting circles into the sweat-soaked fabric clinging to his skin.

Well.

Keith really, really didn’t.

But he felt like he owed Lance at least _something_.

“It was… way, way back in the Maze, y’know.”  
Keith took one last deep, shuddering breath.

No turning back now.

“I came out of the elevator, just like all the other guys. Just like you.”  
At that, he glanced sideways for the first time.

Lance’s worried gaze seemed fixed on his face.  
Even after he immediately averted his eyes again, the side of his face _burned_.  
Burned with the rest of him.

“I didn’t know where I was, didn’t know _who_ I was, y’know? It was so _terrifying_. And even though all my memories up to that point were… completely gone, I could still tell that something was wrong. Something was _missing_. I felt so… so _empty_. I don’t know what else to call it, really. And at one point… It’s been like, I don’t know, a year maybe? After everything that happened, all the people we lost… After everything we tried and sacrificed… Everything just seemed so… _hopeless_. I just… couldn’t take it anymore.”

Keith closed his eyes.  
His body ached and ached, his pounding heart wouldn’t slow down.

Next to him, Lance quietly whispered his name, offered to break it off there if he couldn’t do it, he didn’t _have_ to continue.

Thank God for small blessings like Lance.

But something was nagging at him, urging him to do this—

Almost as if it was the only chance he’d get.

One last chance.

One more person to remember his words, remember his story.

One last chance for one more person to remember _him_.

“So one morning, I… I got up early, way before anyone else, and I ran into the Maze. I used to be a runner, too, y’know.”  
At that memory, he felt his lips twitch into a small smile.  
“Together with Shiro. I used to be the fastest, can you believe that? Shiro’d always throw little fits at first, because _damn_ , _that flimsy newbie just took his fucking spot_ , heh.” He rolled his eyes and Lance huffed out a surprised laugh.

“Anyways. Still, despite everything… the Maze appeared scarier than ever that morning, and it was as if every bit of realization about everything finally settled in only just then, and something in me just…”

Raising a clammy hand, he snapped his fingers.  
Lance by his side tensed up, inhaling a deep breath.

“So I went in, and I ran like my life depended on it, which… at that time, I guess it kind of did. So I ran and ran, looking for the tallest wall I could find, and I just… climbed it. I can't really remember how I did it.”

Without him realizing it until he was actually doing it, his hand was nervously kneading his right knee through his jeans. As he continued talking, the all too familiar, steady ache returned.

“The sun looked so pretty from up there, but there was nothing else there,” he whispered. Nothing for them to use or to escape to. Nothing but the image of the sun illuminating the Glade and everything beyond, the feeling of the sun’s first rays right on his skin, just as it rose into the far sky above…

“Oh, Keith…” Lance mumbled somberly.

A warm hand brushed against his anxiously trembling, clammy one.  
It stilled immediately. Cramping up to not let his weakness show any further.  
He couldn’t suppress the shiver running down his spine, the goosebumps raising on his arms again.

“Then I... threw myself off the ledge. I _hated_ that place, Lance. I really, truly hated it.”

Lance’s fingers twitched against the back of his hand.  
Gently squeezed in silent support as he only took in an audible, sharp breath.  
“I’m so sorry, Keith.”

A bitter smiled curled around his lips.  
He stiffly shook his head.

“Of course, I got completely tangled in all the ivy hanging from the walls. It was a fucked up mess, really. Snapped my right leg in three different places, though, and crashed _hard_. I thought that was it. Honestly, at that moment, I was… regretting it. Just a little.”

The sun didn’t reach into the Maze and it was horrible.  
It was dark, the monsters were shrieking in close distance. He was freezing and shaking and sobbing. In agonizing pain, emotionally as well as physically.

Lance’s other arm wound around his shoulders, hugging him with a tight grip.  
As if scared he’d disappear with the next gust of wind.  
His whisper of “God, Keith…” made him blink in stunned silence.

Oh.

Did he say all that out loud?

“W-Well, anyways. Somehow, I don’t know how, or how much time had passed, or why… Shiro found me. Shiro found me, and he picked me up and took me back to the Glade. There they patched me up again, but my leg was too messed up. It was so much work just to get it to work like this again. So _exhausting_ , y’know. Of course, I couldn’t really run anymore, so… I helped out as, like, kind of a… second-in-command to Shiro, I guess. Did lots of stuff around the Glade. Helped out however and wherever I could. But…”

Running a hand down his face, he sighed.

“Shiro and I never told anyone the truth about what happened,” he whispered defeated.

Lance’s grip around him tightened even more.

“But he… Shiro saved me. Shiro kept me sane and checked up on me, made sure I had things to do while also making sure I wasn’t overdoing it. He gave me a second chance, Lance. Now he needs us, and I’ll be damned if I don’t die trying to save him too. So, if there is even the slightest chance that we can save him… God knows we have to take it. _I’ll_ take it, no matter what.”

“I’m with you, no question, man.”

Keith froze, looking up and turning to face Lance at the immediate response.

A sad smile was what he got met with.

“We’ll get him back for sure. I promise. And hey, this looks like a nice place to set up camp later, together with the kids and all. What d’you think?”  
Lance casually waved his hand, pointing at the beach and the green fields surrounding it. Keith followed the motion with a startled blink.  
It was the most natural place he had seen in a long, long time.  
Since he could remember, it was probably the first. The Glade didn’t really count.

Indeed, it looked perfect.

“A safe haven for all of us. After everything is over, after we got Shiro back and destroyed the Galra. We can finally start over, leave all of this behind us. What do you say?”

It sounded too good to be true.

Too good for him.

Too bad he wouldn’t live to see the promised day.

 _Fuck_.

Tears filled his eyes, burning so bad he couldn’t help but let them fall. It didn’t even feel like some sort of relief which was just fucking _cruel_ and made him cry harder.  
He was shaking, his hands were shaking, and his arm was burning too, a searing reminder of everything he’d never be able to reach anymore.

The wind felt like a slap to his face.  
Calling him out for his hypocrisy.  
Telling him to wake up, face reality, step out of the closet.

“I-It sounds perfect, Lance,” he whispered, shoulders hunching up and chin buried within his chest.  
Trying to choke back the weak sobs.

“Huh? K-Keith, wha— hey, man, what’s up? What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong? Buddy, please, talk to me?”

Both of Lance’s arms snuck around his shoulders, one hand gently coming up at the side of Keith’s neck. A thumb soothingly brushed over his icy cheek, smearing the tears dripping from his chin all across his jaw.

God, he didn’t deserve this.

“I-I’m so s-sorry, Lance,” he hiccupped miserably.

Why was he even crying?  
Why was he feeling so bad for himself, throwing a whole damn pity party like this?

It was his own damn fault, he had _no right_ —

But Lance was so warm.  
His warm breath tickled his ear like the freezing wind couldn’t anymore.

Their knees bumped together as Lance huddled even closer.

“Shh, it’s okay, I swear it’s okay. Keith, please, talk to me. I-I don’t know how I can help. What’s going on?”

Wordlessly, he pulled his arms free.  
With tremors wracking through his fingers, he tugged at the jacket sleeve of his right arm, unable to keep a proper hold on it.

“I can’t… I don’t _want_ to hide any longer. I’m s-sorry, Lance.”

Lance shook his head, a calm expression on his face as he released the hug.  
His steady hands gently brushed against Keith’s, pushing them aside as he gingerly took his arm into his own hands. Like it was something delicate, something to handle carefully or it’d _break_.

And pulled back the stained sleeve to reveal the black bruise.

It already looked more like an infected wound then, black vine-like _things_ pushing against his sickly-looking skin and crawling up his arm. Keith knew it had reached past his shoulder by then.  
He knew it wouldn’t stop there, either.

Lance’s fingers brushed against the black, bulging veins, a horrible contrast against his pasty white skin.  
Against Lance’s healthy brown skin.

Not saying a word.

Keith was too scared to look at him.  
Scared of what he’d find there.

Scared of what he’d find in the face he learned to love so much it _hurt_.

It hurt like hell.  
Everything hurt like hell.

It was getting harder to breathe, his vision swaying and his head getting fuzzy. Like it was filling with thick cotton.

“I-I need t-to find Shiro,” he hiccupped, unable to hold the high-pitched sobs back any longer. _There was not enough time left._ “I-I n-need to s-see him, L-Lance. I’m s-so—s-sorry, I’m sorry—“

Everything turned upside down.

Hands were on his shoulders, maneuvering him until his back was leaning against something warm and soft but solid. Suddenly his knees were pressed against his chest with his feet on steady ground, even his aching and burning one, and he buried his face within them. Willing everything to just go away.

A distant voice, steadily growing louder through the blood intensely rushing through his ears.

“…ust like that. You’re doing great, Keith. You’re doing so well, you’re so _brave_. I admire you so, _so_ much. Just breathe, just like that.”

Lance’s hands were rubbing up and down his biceps, massaging the tense muscles. Feeling like they threatened to tear beneath his skin.

He didn’t notice before, but he was gingerly rocking the both of them from side to side.

“Lance…” he sniffled.

“Yeah. Hey. You back with me, Keith?”

Keith nodded shakily.  
His fingers jerkily flexed in the cool grass, his knuckles aching warily as his chest continued to heave.

“Good. Then listen up, and listen _well_.”

Lance’s hands wandered down, keeping his own still.

“Listen. _Listen_. We’re storming their HQ. We’re getting Shiro back, no losses allowed. And while we’re there, we’re getting the antidote. There’s still time, we can still stop it. I won’t build the safe haven without you, you hear me? So you better pull through! Just— just, hold on a little longer. It’s okay, Keith. I swear, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me. Shh, shh.”

He was crying again, but he couldn’t care less this time.  
They sat with their backs against the path of the wind, Lance’s shielding him from it completely, and for the first time in a long while he felt safe and warm.

Even more, something in him wanted to _believe_.

“We’ll go tomorrow. And it’ll work. We’re all coming back here together, we’re saving all the other kids they hold captive there, and we’re _definitely_ not leaving without Shiro. And not without the serum. We’ll work this out, Keith, I swear. I promise. So, promise me to fight this just a little longer. I’ll help you, just— just, like, talk to me, and I’ll help you. We’ll all be okay.”

 _God_ , how badly he wanted to believe.

And as he raised his head to blearily stare at the sea, imagining the near future Lance just painted for him, for all of them…

Lance’s warm forehead brushed against the hair at the back of his head.

“Also, I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” he whispered hoarsely. “But— I’m really glad you’re here now. I’m glad I got to meet you, Keith. So, _so_ glad. So, _please_ – just… _stay_ , yeah?”

Keith pretended not to feel the tears dripping down his neck.

Leaving him feeling colder than ever before.

“Thank you, Lance,” he whispered.

He wouldn’t make any more empty promises, though.

The arms around him held him just a little tighter.

So the sun began to set, and it was the prettiest sight he’d ever seen since that day atop of the wall.  
It might've just all been worth it for this one moment.

 

*

 

That night, Keith lit a lantern and kept watch in front of the cave, just a little further away from the entrance than usual.

He took a bullet out of his gun and emptied it of its contents, leaving only the hollow shell for him to work with.

Quietly, he used the available tools to create a pendant out of it; reusing the black string of leather, wrapped around his bony wrist multiple times. A souvenir from way back into the Glade all those years ago, a gift from Shiro.

A good luck charm.

To remind him of their promise to always stick close to each other, no matter where they were.

Keith tied the necklace around his neck, where it hung like a dooming noose weighing him down. Wrapping around his airways.

The stars above him were the clearest he’d ever seen them when he brought out pen and paper.

Keith started writing.

Although he couldn’t feel the piece of metal resting against his leaden, numb fingertips anymore, the words continued to appear right in front of his eyes. He could at least _see_ them coming to life, black ink forming shaky letters against the slightly yellowish and slightly creased paper, crumpled at the edges; could _see_ his thoughts growing into shapes, but he just couldn’t feel it anymore. Just the ghostly sensation of his dwindling memory was all he had left.

By the time the sun began to rise above the horizon, his new necklace felt like it was carrying the weight of the world.

At least, that’s what he imagined it to be like without being able to actually feel it.  
Even against his meanwhile constantly stuttering chest, the weight was nonexistent.

Keith stood and stretched his aching limbs. Trying to find some small sort of relief he knew he won’t be able to experience anymore.  
He returned into the cave, not looking back at the sea once.  
Its distant murmur sounded like wailing waves to his ears.

A final farewell.

(Lance’s hands on his skin those few hours ago, his lean arms wrapped around his shaking frame not long after, were slowly becoming a fleeting memory too. Dispersing into thin air like an ephemeral cloud of smoke, trickling through his grasp like the fine grains of sand.  
Unable to hold on to them. Unable to do anything but watch it all fall apart right in front of his eyes; right in front of his hands, desperately reaching out.

Trying with all his might to cling to the almost gone feeling just a little longer.

So, so very weak.)

 

*

 

“This is fucking crazy,” Matt grumbled as the terrified kids gathered around them.

They were young, skinny looking things, looking like they’ve been put through the wringer and stuck back into their cell right away afterwards. Neglected and abandoned.

They probably have been just that.

“Just get back to work, dammit Matt.”

“Don’t rush me or go do it yourself, Lance.”

“G-Guys…” Keith wheezed, staggering and blindly bracing himself against the far bleak, gray wall.  
He was shaking, freezing, could barely breathe.  
If he could just collapse right then and there he’d be so _relieved_. Standing upright was becoming so _exhausting_ ; his bad leg especially barely able to carry his weight much further.

“ _Fuck_ , Keith! I’m sorry, sorry. Okay, okay. Listen, Matt, stay here and get into that safe. Keep Keith and the kids with you, and meet up with Allura afterwards. Just like we planned. Lotor and I’ll go get Shiro, and we’ll try to join up with y’all as soon as possible.”

 _No_.

Matt threw a distrustful look the mentioned scientist’s way, before turning back to the vault.  
“Fine,” he grumbled. “You heard ‘em, kids. Stay close to me. Keith, go sit down. You look like you’re ‘bout to keel over. Or throw up, or faint. Or all of those things, in this exact order. C’mon.”

The kids began to inch closer and huddle around their friend, mumbling excitedly while sneaking curious glances at the rest of them.

Keith coughed, pushing himself off the wall just as Lance reached the door with Lotor in tow.  
He felt like he was hacking his lungs out by this point, chest rattling wetly with every forceful retch.  
“N-No… L-Lance, wait! I’m, I'm coming with you!”

Instantly, his friend spun around, eyes wide and looking absolutely horrified.  
“Hell _, no!_ What are you thinking?! Stay here and rest, wait for the antidote, and then we’ll meet up again together, I promise. I promised we’ll get Shiro back, so just trust me on this! Just this once!”

“Lance, no…” His feet stumbled and he yelped, reaching out to somehow brace his inevitable fall.

Two sets of hands caught him at the pits of his arms each.

Lotor’s cold, calculating gaze seemed to search his face for something. Leaning into his line of sight, tilting his head almost curiously, long platinum white locks curling around his sharp face.  
Whatever it was, he seemed to find it. Appearing satisfied with himself.  
“The serum will only add to his remaining time. It is no cure, Lance. It never has been, not yet. It won’t work on him for long, especially not in his current condition,” he stated calmly.  
The hands on his other side twitched suspiciously, but Keith was too busy trying to clear his warping vision.

He couldn’t get warm, couldn’t get the feeling back into his limbs.  
His heart was working in overdrive despite mostly standing still those past few minutes.

Something in him burned.  
Bugs made their way through his skin, his veins, all the way up to the sides of his neck. Cold sweat trickled into his eyes, and he blinked furiously. Little dots of light jumped through his line of sight, warping into blurry lines stretching throughout his vision.

“ _Wait!_ Hold it _right_ there – you never mentioned this before!” Lance hissed darkly.

He honestly sounded ready to murder.

For _him_.

_His sake._

Keith tried to gasp out Lance’s name, _because that wasn’t him_ , but he almost choked on nothing but air.

“You never asked. Always just assumed, I guess,” Lotor replied evenly, eyes brushing over Keith’s face one last time before turning towards Lance. He gave Keith a rough shove.

Lance just so managed to grab him around the waist.  
Growling dangerously.  
His hands probably dug into his already bruised skin all the way through the stolen Galra uniform – at least it looked like it. But that was all the clues he had to go by.

Even Lance’s touch was becoming nothing but a distant-growing memory anymore.

Lotor tilted his head, eyes narrowing.  
Turning his back on them, he moved towards the door leading back out into the hallway, his key card ready.

“My, my, you look quite skeptic. Don’t trust my words, lover boy?”

“Did you expect something else by now?! And don’t call me that!” He muttered incredulously, adjusting his arms around Keith so he was able to support him more easily. Hefting him slightly more upright.  
Over his shoulder he called, “Matt, I don’t care. We don’t know if it’s true until we try. Go get ‘em, and get ‘em _fast_.”

“Sure thing, mate. Wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, go! I’ll see you guys later!”

Lance was gently guiding him backwards, towards what he knew to be the cot within a now empty cell.  
Probably to get him to settle down and rest until they had to move along with the plan.

But _no_. No way.

“Lance, no, _please_ ,” he begged pitifully, coughing around the stream of words he was still mentally preparing for. “I-I can walk, I can still— still aim, I can help, I promise I won’t slow you down!”

Lance slowed, hesitated.  
“Keith, really, it’s not about that or that I don’t believe that or anything, just...“

“Please don’t leave me here like this, Lance,” he croaked miserably.  
Glancing up at the taller boy, he noticed how conflicted he looked. Blue, blue eyes jumped from Matt to Lotor and back again, trying to make a choice. The right choice.  
Eventually he blinked at Keith with a pained expression.

Looking so much older than his scarcely 19 years.

“Alright, buddy,” Lance mumbled under his breath. Sounding defeated and so, so very tired.  
One of his hands clasped Keith’s shoulder, squeezing tightly.

If he would still be able to feel it, it might have hurt.

“But, tell me immediately if you need anything, _anything_ at all. Yeah, Shiro’s important and all that jazz, but so are you. Don’t worry about us or the plan, we’ll adjust. Just, please tell me, yeah? Promise?”

Lance was leaning down, down, down, blue eyes wide and glassy, eyebrows pinched in obvious concern.

Keith couldn’t ever say no to those eyes. Not even back in the Glade.  
Not when Lance broke all the rules, not when Lance turned everything upside down and threw them out of the loop, not when Lance made all the wrong choices.  
Not even when Lance came up with the stupidest, riskiest, most reckless plans, almost costing their lives one too many times, leading them into most certain doom and somehow maneuvering them out of it by just a mere inch.  
Not even when Lance revealed that he was finally able to remember part of his past – working for Galra Inc. just before eventually being thrown into the Maze with all of them for all the wrong reasons.

He could just barely resist the strange urge telling him to reach up and touch those, despite their current circumstances, still somehow squishy-looking cheeks. Wondering if he won’t be able to feel those, either.

Wondering if he’d ever see those tiny dimples, always becoming visible when he smiled, again.  
God, it's been too long.

So, Keith gave in to just that one last urge, one last time.

Slowly, he watched his fingers move up, up, up.

Watched Lance’s eyes trail after his movements, noticed how they glossed over and the other boy seemed to freeze in place.

 _God_ , he was afraid. So very afraid.  
They probably both were.

The tips of his fingers seemed to meet resistance. He watched Lance’s cheek give in beneath his bare index finger, and his thumb probingly dug into the dry corner of his chapped lips. Trying to remember how it felt to use which amount of force; hopefully tenderly pressing upwards, watching as said chapped lips were forced into a crooked smile.

Even as he watched those same lips wobble and seemingly forcefully curl into a bitter smile all on their own, his hand stayed where it was.

Even as he watched a tear escape those ocean blue eyes he so adored, he couldn’t suppress his own relieved smile any longer.

Lance was still able to smile all on his own.  
Those tiny dimples were still there, right underneath the tip of his finger.

At least some things didn’t change.

Keith closed his eyes.

“Thank you. I promise.”

_Cross my heart and hope to die._

 

*

 

They almost didn’t get to Shiro.

Just as they were about to enter the medical slash research ward, where according to Lotor they were keeping Shiro, Zarkon appeared behind them. Guns cocked and guards closing in on them.

Keith could feel himself getting worse as the minutes passed, heaving and panting for air that wasn’t properly filtering into his lungs; shoulders hunched and bent over, squeezing Lance’s free hand so tight he feared to rip it off. His own gun was just barely still hanging from his fingertips, not strong enough to properly hold it up any longer.

“Drop your weapons!” Zarkon demanded, chin raised and eyes blazing. “Nobody has to get hurt!”  
White coat floating wildly behind him with every move, every gesture, every breath.

Lance’s other arm snuck around Lotor’s throat from behind without hesitation.  
His gun pressed against the traitor’s jaw and stayed there, although shakily.

Lotor didn’t even flinch.

“Oho.” Zarkon smirked, eyebrows raised in mocking surprise. “I’d like to see this,” he drawled, averting his own gun and tilting his head expectantly. “Go on, boy. Shoot him.”

Nobody else but himself and Zarkon seemed to notice, but Lance faltered.  
Through his blurry vision he noted how the gun dipped, just by the fraction of an inch.

But it was enough.

Zarkon laughed, a cruel and icy sound, sending chills down his already shivering spine.  
“Just like I thought,” he scoffed. All of a sudden, his almost playful attire disappeared. “Get them. _Alive_. Do whatever it takes, no excuses allowed.”

A chorus of “Yes, sir!” followed. Safeties of guns clicked.

Keith could feel the last remaining bit of color drain from his face.  
He promised Lance not long ago that he would still be able to fight, to hold a gun and aim and pull the damn trigger, but he honestly _couldn’t_. Everything felt faint, like it didn’t exist. Happening in slow-motion, his brain sluggish to process anything.

Somehow he feared that if he just let go now, he wouldn’t be able to fight his way back again.

Lance took a panicked step back, Lotor still in a headlock—

Then they were flying.

His friend stumbled, and Lotor must’ve ducked out of his grasp.  
Lance was holding on to him again; although he couldn’t feel it, he saw how his arm jerked backwards, his whole body following without managing to build any resistance, unable to steady his weak footing.

Keith crashed, hard. Straight into the wall at his back.  
He realized he crumbled to the floor, curling in on himself in a panic, Lance’s voice desperately trying to breach through the ringing in his ears.  
Keith whimpered, blinking furiously as he looked up.

Lance was kneeling next to him, hoisting his upper body up and against his own shoulder.  
His lips were pulled back in a wobbly grimace, blue eyes flickering from his face to—

To the thick glass door separating them from Lotor and the rest.  
Sirens came to life above their heads, red lights tinting everything in a crimson hue, and Keith felt his mind flicker in and out of his slippery grasp like a dying light.

Zarkon seemed to roar in fury, gesturing wildly next to Lotor, as the guards repeatedly rammed their shoulders into the bulletproof glass that wouldn’t budge. Trying to break through without success.

Lotor was looking at them. Calmly. As if he didn’t just send the whole floor, including his furious father, into an uproar.  
And somehow, his bland, steady voice was reaching them clearly.

_“I have just done you a favor.”_

More snippets got caught by his mind, but that was all they were. Snippets. Fragments of a whole.

_“… unable to run… lockdown… won’t get far… surround them.”_

“He’s buying us time, God, Keith, we need to go, we need to hurry, I’m so sorry—“

Lance hauled him to his feet, continuing to cling to his arm as if he’d disappear otherwise.  
It barely registered anymore.

But as the scientists ran through the sterile white corridors in front of them, he knew they had no choice.

“Let’s go,” he croaked, trying to give Lance’s hand a weak tug.  
Mustering up all the strength he managed to scrape together, he raised his gun.

Firing a warning shot.  
The scientists screamed, scattering in every possible direction.

Leaving the hallways empty as the alarms continued to howl.

This was it.

 

*

 

It was _Shiro_ who found _them_ when they got cornered.

They were backed against a wall, a guard’s gun almost up to their faces. One moment of carelessness was all it took.  
Lance stood one step in front of his hunched over, wheezing form; one trembling arm stretched out in front of his rattling chest. As if that’d protect him when shit hit the fan.  
Keith barely noticed. He was too busy trying not to choke on the sticky _thing_ crawling up his throat, blocking his airways and filling his mouth.

His neck was crawling with bugs underneath his skin.  
The only thing he was able to feel anymore was the virus spreading through his veins, devouring him whole.

Shiro shot through the handful of guards surrounding them faster than any bullet ever could.

The guard holding them at gunpoint got smacked into the wall next to them with a sickening crunch, limply sliding to the floor.  
Shiro stomped his bare foot down, an impressive smack against the linoleum floor.  
In front of the both of them he stood, tall and unafraid. Shoulders squared back, chin raised challengingly, hands balled into tight fists by his sides.

He must’ve been put through hell and back, and yet here he was.  
Saving their useless asses.

Keith coughed out a blubbering laugh, bordering on sounding a little hysterical even to his own ears, really.

Lance’s hands were on him in an instant, cupping his numb cheek and hooking under his arm, offering silent support. _Even the tears gathering in his eyes looked like they came straight out of the ocean,_ he noted distractedly, oddly fascinated.

He really was a goner.  
In more ways than one.

“ _Keith_ , hey, _listen_ — listen. We did it, we’re almost done, just hold on a little longer, y-yeah? We’re going home soon, buddy, we’re going home. All of us, together, I promise. Tell me how I can help, I’ll help you, what do you need?”

Somewhere deep inside his mind, his delirious brain supported a weak _tell him to hold you and never let go. Tell him to carry you home, tell him to hold you close the whole way out so you won’t ever have to look at this sick, nightmarish mess ever again. Beg him to be the one to wake up next to you in the safe haven tomorrow morning, ask him to watch another sunrise on the beach with you. Tell him how much he means to you._

_Tell him you love him._

What escaped his cold, chapped lips was a sound barely more than a puff of air, barely forming the syllables into words.

“Leave me, Lance.”

Lance’s eyes widened, expression crumbling as the first tear rolled down his suddenly ashen looking cheeks. His head moved from side to side, slowly, incredulously, his pale lips parting soundlessly—

Shiro barreled into them and they tumbled into a dark room, one big heap of flailing limbs and livid curses.

The way the door clicked shut behind them, emergency lock safely clicking into place, has never sounded this final before.

Lance’s forcefully suppressed sobs would haunt him until his bitter end.

“ _No_. Never, mullet. _Never_.”

 

*

 

It was Keith who sent the fire-extinguisher crashing through the tall window.  
Accompanied in a rain of glass it hit the pound below with a loud splash, never resurfacing again.

Probably just like they would, any second now.

Shiro and Lance stood behind him, whispering just loud enough for him to guess that they were probably talking about him and his steadily declining health slash sanity.  
But he couldn’t care less.

Keith was running out of time.

The guards kept pounding against the door.

“Guys, we need to get out of here _fast_ ,” he called gravelly, wincing at the way his voice scraped against his once again dry throat.

His friends immediately turned their attention towards him.  
The dim moonlight was enough to illuminate both of their worried features.

“I’m-I’m not so sure about this anymore, to be honest. We’re so high up, I’m starting to doubt we’ll survive this, right, Shiro? We don’t even know if the water’s deep enough to brace the fall, or if we’re just gonna break our damn necks at first contact. C’mon, help a friend out, here.”

Shiro frowned unhappily.  
“We have to take this chance. If they get us, we won’t survive either way. Now, we at least stand a chance, no matter how small.”  
His eyes flickered from the window behind him to Keith’s face and back again as he stepped closer, holding out a hand.  
“This will be the last time, yeah?”

Keith couldn’t help it. He barked out a humorless laugh.

“Fuck, I sure hope it is. Pretty sure I’m a little scared of heights by now.”

He watched the realization dawn on Lance’s face.

The sound of something akin to a chainsaw jumping into motion made the three of them flinch simultaneously, watching helplessly as the saw cut through the door. Sparks jumping through the air as the guards outside hollered orders.

Keith delicately curled his hand against his chest, glancing at the ugly veins standing out against his almost translucent skin.  
He couldn’t take the offer. Not like this, not from someone as pure and sweet as _Shiro_.

Shiro never gave a fuck before, though, and it didn’t look like he was about to start now, either.

Stepping even closer, his hand grabbed Keith’s without hesitation, and gently guided him into a hug against his broad chest.  
He tried to pull away, because there wasn’t much time, much less for sentimental shit like _this_ , but Shiro was stronger.

Always has been.

“We have always wanted to escape the Galra’s walls, and we won’t let it end now. Not in the midst of those very walls, not here. We’re going to make it out, and we’re going to be free and start over. We can build a real home, Keith. I know you’re strong, stronger than any of us, I know you can fight this just a little longer. I am so, so proud of you, little brother. _So_ proud. You’ve come so far.”

Shiro’s voice was the deep, smooth rumble he remembered.  
Gently, he pushed him back, hands resting on Keith’s shoulders.  
Wearing a sad, anxious expression, his eyes hovered just a tick too long on Keith’s neck, trailing up a moment too late to properly face him.

Which just confirmed what he already feared. What he felt before.

What Shiro eventually said, though, was a simple, “Galra uniforms don’t suit you”.

Keith couldn’t feel it, but he was sure his lips pulled back into a small, watery smile.  
“Wow, _ouch_. Listen, Shiro—“

“Uh, guys, hold that thought. I hate to interrupt, but can we save this for later? They’re almost through! We need to hurry!”

Without waiting for any kind of response, Lance appeared next to them and grabbed both of their hands.  
Leading them straight through the room to the broken window.

Keith tore his arm back, pressing it against his chest once more as he cautiously stepped closer.  
The sound of the saw cutting through the metal door rang through his head. There was a voice sitting just right behind his eyes, screaming at him to _jump, take the fall, run run run for your life—_

But he hesitated.

They were really, really high up.  
How many floors did this building have? Too many to count. He was getting dizzy again. But they were around halfway up the building—

Lance and Shiro on either side of him had taken a few steps back.

“Keith!”

He turned around, hand shooting up to grip the small necklace dangling from his marked neck.

There must’ve been something showing in his face, his posture, his appearance – for both their expressions softened visibly as he faced them.

“We’re right here with you, buddy,” Shiro promised, reaching out a hand once more.

Right. It wasn’t like back in the Glade.  
They _had_ to do this.

To save their friends and everyone else suffering by the Galra’s hands.

To survive.

Together.

“I- No, _we_ won’t leave you here, Keith. _Please_ , come on. We’ll do this – together, yeah? Like we promised.”

Lance seemed on the verge of crying again.  
Reaching out for him as well.

Keith stepped away from the ledge, carefully letting his hands drop into those of his friends.  
It sent bugs crawling up his arms, as if they hadn’t tainted them enough already, but he grit his teeth and locked his jaw.  
Enduring it. Like he always did.

There was a loud crash as the door flew into the room, distressed voices filling the room.  
Alarm bells went off in his head.

He didn’t know where all his strength suddenly came from, but there it was.  
One last rush of adrenaline.

With a sincere _“Fuck—!”_ he forced his fingers to curl around the ones of his literal brothers in arms, not checking if they actually managed to but praying that they did, and jumped forwards.

_“W-Woah—!”_

_“Holy shit—!”_

Keith laughed as his feet pushed against the last remains of the building’s edge.

And then they were falling.

Lance and Shiro were cursing, praying, screaming, but Keith couldn’t take his eyes off the dark sky above.

It wasn’t like that time back in the Glade at all.  
There was no pretty sun on his skin, no vines to get caught up in, no Shiro to come running and piece him back together because Shiro was right there falling with him. Because there was nothing to soften their fall except for the small, dark pond below, and nothing to light their way except for the bright full moon and the blanket of stars above.

Above all else, he was not alone this time.

His mind was the clearest it’s ever been since the poison consumed his veins.

There were other hands in the palms of his freezing ones, one set of fingers slim and long and the others big and broad.

Keith almost let go in surprise, but both hands only tightened their hold on him.  
He laughed again at the same time his eyes burned up with tears.

The pond was coming closer, suddenly coming closer way too fast, and he wished for this crazy moment to last forever.

It was the best he’d been in a long time.  
Right there between the two people he cherished the most.

He wanted to say so many things, but the air was knocked out of him by their fall.  
So he squeezed back even stronger, hoping to get the feelings across like this.

 _I love you guys so much._  
_Thank you for everything you’ve done._  
 _Please, please stay safe._  
 _Make it out of here, with or without me._  
 _Whatever it takes, don’t look back._

_Thank you for saving my life._

_I’m sorry._

Keith would have gasped if he could, but he couldn’t.

A sudden panic flooded his chest, his legs weakly kicking at nothing.

He tried to turn his head, blinking furiously; tried to catch at least one of their gazes, tried to speak—

They crashed.

The waves crashed together above his head, flooding his mind and curling around his frightened brain like a gentle embrace. Telling him to rest.

The hands within his disappeared, or at least he couldn’t feel them anymore.  
He tried to scream as something clawed at the edge of his consciousness, icy claws dragging along the surface, poking into the weak resistance still left.

Only water answered, filling his lungs.

His eyes snapped open but his vision was flooded nothing but red, red, red, like a red film draped across his eyes. Burying his hands in the strands of his hair, he desperately tried to locate his friends, but he couldn’t see them in the muddy liquid. It seeped straight into his bones, dragging him down, even as he uselessly kicked his legs.

_No no no no no no no no no no –_

The waves crashed above him, and he crashed with them.

Earlier he felt like if he let go just then, he wouldn’t be able to come back.

Now more than ever, he was scared to actually find out.

In the end he was nothing but weak.

_I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—_

Keith let go.

**Author's Note:**

> ahhhhhhahahaha so this is it for now i guess lol i'm sorry i cAN'T LOOK AT IT ANY LONGER
> 
> it's so inaccurate and inconsistent and full of holes idk if i'll ever come back to fix all of it but at least it's angsty and that's what y'all dig nowadays amiright kids
> 
>  
> 
> cry with me


End file.
